


Some Things Never Sleep

by GyrFalcon



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, F/F, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, do you want to be sad? read this!, team machine - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2015-07-14
Packaged: 2018-04-09 09:18:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4342886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GyrFalcon/pseuds/GyrFalcon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When she returns.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Things Never Sleep

The room is cold. She knows this is because it is January and the heating is broken in this safe house but she cannot help but think it has to do with the figure curled up on the floor, stiff backed and solitary. Shaw refuses to sleep in beds now. Root remembers the hospital gurney, the institution, the spots of blood, the stink of sweat, the fear, and she understands.

So she sleeps alone. Tonight is the fifty fourth night.

When they first got Shaw back, they didn’t. Quiet as death, her guns did all the talking. But she came bearing no bullet for Root, beating the truth into her with fists instead. The punches landed like her kisses used to and her hands enveloped Root’s throat like a memory, choked just the same.

Her eyes, they weren’t Sameen’s. They weren’t anyone’s. They were empty.

Bullets wounds heal and bruises fade but memories are forever and brainwashing goes beyond the grave; there is no getting Sameen back. There is only helping her to move forward, convincing her to build up. So far they are failing. Root spends her days watching a half-alive stranger wear Sameen’s face. And this person wants nothing to do with her.

There are good days and bad days. No. There has been bad days. One day, they will have a good day.

The triggers are everything and nothing. Root’s face. John’s voice. Harold’s uneven footsteps. Sleeves buttoned too tight. Sour food. Computers. They try not to drug her. Root lets her hit her. John sees a bruise, and knows. Pulling down his collar, he exposes a purple welt as if a small fist had repeatedly beat his chest. Harold says things, they don’t listen.

Bear sits with Sameen, sometimes. Ears low, tail still. She lets him, sometimes.

She organises the books, exercises by practicing fight moves – this, is maybe the one thing she remembers. Mostly she watches, looking out of the window into a world she is more isolated from than ever. She doesn’t complain. She doesn’t talk often. Her voice is still hoarse, everything comes out like an echo, a repetition. She has not said Root’s name yet.

In her sleep, she lets out strangled moans that could be the word “no”.

She has new scars criss crossing the old ones. They read like a horror book. Root forces herself to look until the day Sameen starts wearing hooded tops and long sleeves, her hair down and gloves several sizes too big covering her hands.

Some of the cuts look self-inflicted. The nail scratches around Root’s throat itch.

Sunlight peaks through, a sad little strip of weak light that runs over Sameen. Tear tracks shine down her cheeks. Root does not move.

On the fifty fifth night, Root brings her pillow down onto the floor. Sameen does not move.

She also does not have a nightmare for the first time since they found her.


End file.
